


Enough

by Starlithorizon



Series: Alchemy and Guitar Ties [23]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has a secret tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

Arthur sat at the desk in the guest room/study/studio and leaned over a new drawing. It wasn't an illustration for a book, or a commission, this was just for him. Once it was finished, it would be tucked away into the locked bottom drawer of the desk to gather dust and long forgotten memories.

He did this occasionally, perhaps once or twice a year. He'd get up in the middle of the night and drew dreams, memories of things that never existed. Of _people_ who never existed. Most of these drawings were just faces, children laughing or smiling or looking rather sly. Little girls with his husband's eyes, little boys with his own snub nose. Each portrait had a name scrawled beneath it. Tonight, he was drawing Lily, who had ginger curls and freckled cheeks and bright green eyes.

It was more a tradition than anything, occurring about a week after their anniversary, fading from his thoughts once they were done. He never regretted not having children with Martin, not even adopting, but he always secretly _wanted_. It wasn't something he ever let himself face, for fear of dredging up bad thoughts that sounded suspiciously like Gordon Shappey, but it was almost always just _there_. It thrummed in his chest quite often, usually when he saw happy little families with happy little children.That often made his heart contract and expand in a broken litany of _I want, I want, I want_.

It was funny, but not in a _ha-ha_ sort of way that he wanted children, but he _didn't_ want children. He would never be willing to ask Martin to sacrifice flying, even for a family. He would give it up if Arthur asked, take up a more stable job, and neither would work for MJN anymore, and that was _intolerable_. He couldn't bear the idea, even for a moment. Yes, Martin loved flying, but he wasn't alone in that. There was a _reason_ why Arthur was so willing to be an unpaid steward for so long. It wasn't just helping people, but it was being in the sky, seeing new places, everything that went with the job. It wasn't glamorous, but it was beautiful, and he didn't plan on relinquishing it anytime soon.

He was also positively _terrified_ at the idea of actually raising a person. He was really meant for childcare in the uncle capacity, not in a way that required so much responsibility. There were so many ways to mess up a child, and despite Martin's reassurances, fears that he was too like his father lurked quietly in the back of his mind. Any child would be lucky to have Martin as a father, but that would not be the case with Arthur as a father.

So he soothed this ache by drawing faces that never would be. It hurt, a sharp thorn in his side, but it helped in the long run. He thought up stories for these never-were children, deciding what their favourite foods were or what sorts of antics they might get up to on family vacations. He ran through their entire lives, birth and onward, determining what they would be when they grew up and what sort of person they would marry.

He finished off the last little details on Lily's portrait, staring at it for a moment before putting it away with her brothers and sisters. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and went back to bed, meaning to put away his art things in the morning.

* * *

Martin got up first the following morning, frowning softly at his husband. He hadn't been in bed for several hours during the night, and Martin was a bit worried. Arthur had never had problems with insomnia before. He had to wonder if there was anything wrong, but he couldn't talk to Arthur till he woke up.

He wandered into the study, knowing that Arthur would draw if he couldn't sleep. His suspicions were confirmed upon seeing the supplies strewn across the desk. He smiled and put everything away, only noticing the open drawer before leaving the room. That drawer was Arthur's own, and it was almost always locked. Martin imagined that that was where he kept his unfinished drawings, or the ones he just didn't like. Curiosity got the better of Martin, and he soon found himself opening the drawer and pulling out a thick sheaf of drawings.

On the top of the pile was a portrait of a little girl he'd never seen before. She had curly red hair and freckles and big green eyes. Beneath her smiling face was her name. Martin wondered if she was a character study for a new book or something.

He flipped through the stack, studying each face, sadness slowly dawning over him as he understood. Some of the children looked like him, some looked like Arthur.

Martin's heart _broke_.

These were portraits of children that they'd never have.

Slowly, gently, as though tucking them into bed, Martin replaced the drawings and locked the drawer. He stood in the centre of the room for a moment, swaying with a dull ache and muttering to himself, "Oh, _Arthur_."

He'd always known, really, that Arthur sort of wanted children. It clearly was possible to want something and not want it at the same time, and that was clearly going on with his husband. Martin was the same.

There was a bit of doubt niggling in the back of his head, though, for the first time since Arthur kissed him in New York.

* * *

"Arthur, are you... Are you happy?" Martin asked softly over breakfast. Arthur frowned, though not unhappily. Confusion was all over his face.

"Of course I am, Skip, I'm usually happy."

Martin shook his head.

"That's not what I mean. Are you happy with _me_? With this life?"

Arthur's mouth dropped open in a little O and he blinked at Martin. Something soft and sad drifted slowly over his face as he reached out and put a hand over his husband's.

"Martin, I've _never_ been as happy as I am with you. You make me happier than warm baths or hot chocolate or Toblerone, or _anything_."

Though this drew a smile out of Martin, he wasn't done.

"But aren't you upset that we won't ever... I know you want children."

There was a hushed moment before understanding dawned over Arthur. In a moment of perceptiveness, he brushed a thumb over Martin's knuckles and looked knowingly at his husband.

"You saw the drawings," he said, stating it rather than asking. Martin could only nod in response.

How could he explain this?

"Okay, yes, I want children, sort of," he began. "What I said that night is still true. I'm not meant to be a father. I love having Caitlin's children, and Simon's children, and Hannah, and everyone in our family, and that's mostly enough for me. It's just...sometimes I get a bit sad that I won't be having any of my own. Does that make any sense?"

Martin nodded again and drew Arthur closer, tucking him against his body.

"It does," he murmured. "While we might want this, even if we don't have it, there's nothing lacking about our lives, so long as we're together."

Arthur smiled gently up at Martin and pressed a small kiss to his lips.

"Forever and a day," he promised, winding their fingers together.

"Forever and a day."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for that angst, guys. I just finally figured out how to wrap up that little arc, and this was how. While I think these boys would be the best dads ever, I just couldn't figure out a way to make them full time fathers as opposed to part time uncles without sacrificing something that neither would give up. I know it's a bit sad, but sadness makes the fluff _fluffier_. Right?  
>  As always, prompts are both welcome and encouraged!


End file.
